


Search and Rescue

by WolfenM



Series: Found, Yet Still Lost [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awesome Sam Wilson, Best Friends, Bisexual Sam Wilson, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexuality, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Returns, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Bucky Barnes is Like a Robot, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Crying-Boy Fetish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Bucky Barnes, M/M, Memory Loss, Men Crying, Multi, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Slash, Protective Steve, Protective Steve Rogers, Psychoanalist!Sam Wilson, Romance, Sam Wilson Feels, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Steve Angst, Steve Feels, Steve Has Issues, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Temporary Amnesia, Up all night to get Bucky, displaced in time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfenM/pseuds/WolfenM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall of HYDRA, Steve is desperate to find Bucky -- but does Bucky want to be found?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devilc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/gifts), [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).



> **DISCLAIMER:** Steve Rogers / Captain America, James "Bucky" Buchanan Barnes / Sam Wilson / Falcon, Tony Stark / Iron Man, JARVIS © Marvel Entertainment. Not used with permission, and no profit is being made.
> 
>  **Note:** I actually started this fic last summer (2014), but still am not done yet. I didn't want to start posting it until I finished, in case I got irrevocably sidetracked, but it occurred to me that these first two chapters could stand alone, so here they are. :) The chapter names tell you from whose third-person view that chapter is told.
> 
> The second (posted) and third (still needs to be finished) fics, which take place at the Avengers Tower, will be Steve/Bucky (my OTP in the MCU) with hints of Sam/Steve/Bucky (my MCU OT3); the series will theoretically end with them as a trio, in a fourth / epilogue fic, if I get to it. XD
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: Most of the rest of the series will be rated Explicit, and you will only be able to read those installments if you are a registered AO3 user -- sorry!
> 
> (Devilc and Sholio, don't feel you have to read any of it! XD I just wanted to say thanks again for your help last year!)

/"=\/="\  
"If we're gonna be working together for a while, I think I need to clear the air about something," Sam said after buckling his seatbelt, getting ready to drive Captain America home (Sam's home -- Steve's apartment wasn't really livable now) from the hospital.

Steve finished with his own belt, grimacing as the fabric crossed over his now-healed-but-apparently-still-tender stomach, and glanced at Sam expectantly. "That sounds ominous ...."

"No, no, nothing like that ... well, maybe. Guess it all depends on how you take this ...." Sam took a deep breath and braced himself. "When we first met ... I was flirting with you. _And_ I thought _you_ might be flirting back."

Steve raised his eyebrows, looking surprised, and Sam's stomach sank -- not because he was disappointed that Steve apparently _hadn't_ been flirting that day (although there was that, too), but because Sam realised that he probably had just made things incredibly awkward between them ....

"Look, man, I'll still help you find Barnes--" he started, a little worried that Steve might reveal himself to be a product of his times and refuse to even work with Sam now.

"Am I really _that terrible_ at flirting that no one's ever sure if I am?" Steve said at the same time.

"What?" the duo then asked each other, before what was said by either of them registered.

"Oh!" Sam chuckled, tension draining out of him. "Sorry, bro! It's just ... I went to that Captain America exhibit after we met, and saw the stuff about you and Carter, and I thought ...."

Steve nodded in understanding. "That I'm straight. I'm bisexual, I guess," he clarified. "Not that I have a lot of experience with either department, male or female, to be honest. And yes, I, uh ... I _was_ flirting with you." He ducked his head.

_Steve Rogers, you are too adorable to be real,_ Sam thought to himself.

The conversation was far from over, though, with plenty of other potentially hazardous territory left to navigate. "Well, I'm glad to know our feelings are mutual," Sam ventured, braving another tricky subject, "but what about Barnes? Where does he fit into the mix? I mean, there were ... _other_ things I thought I saw in that exhibit too, not just you and Carter .... " In the photos and news reels, Steve seemed to light up whenever he was standing next to Barnes, in a way that he did with no one else. Not even Carter. "And there's the way you talk about him ...." Sam shrugged apologetically, wondering if he had a right to even ask.

Steve's shoulders tensed, and he wouldn't meet Sam's eyes. "I won't lie ...."

Sam refrained from saying that he didn't think Steve _could_ lie -- not even to save a life.

"IloveBucky," Steve said in a rush that made Sam suspect that Steve had never said the words aloud before. "Even when I thought I might marry Peggy someday, while I _did_ love her, a lot, I ... well, I could have given her up if Bucky had told me he felt the same for me as I did for him."

"So ... _you_ told _him_ , but he didn't reciprocate ...?" Sam prompted.

"No, no, I never told him," Steve replied quietly. "I didn't even understand what I was feeling until Bucky had already dated half the girls in school." Steve shrugged. "He was clearly into girls, and I didn't want him to hate me."

Sam shook his head -- he knew exactly how that felt. "You thought he was straight, so you never even asked."

Steve looked at Sam again, his face suddenly paler. "Just like _you_ thought _I_ was ...." he whispered. Sam suspected Steve wasn't looking at him at all, but rather was conjuring a mental image of Barnes, seeing the man with new eyes. "What if ...?" Steve closed his eyes, looking pained. "You're a much braver man than I, Sam," he muttered, turning away.

_Says the guy who threw himself unhesitatingly onto what he'd thought was a live grenade --_ before _getting the super-serum!_ "Look, man, our situations are pretty different. We don't have years of history between us, I wouldn't lose my BFF if you turned me down, I had reason to suspect you might like men, and being interested in the same sex is a hell of a lot more accepted now than it was back when you and Bucky were growin' up."

Steve nodded numbly, but didn't seem convinced.

"Well ... you thought he was dead for a long time, right? So when we find him, _ask_ him -- I mean, you won't have as much to lose now," Sam suggested, trying to sound light.

"What about you?" Steve asked, glancing at Sam out of the corner of his eye.

Sam shrugged. "I meant what I said -- I'll help you find Barnes no matter what. I also won't get between you. I'm not promising to wait or anything like that, though -- it's just, if things don't work out between you two, if you're still interested in me and I'm still free, we can see where things go. Hell, even if things do work out for you with Barnes, I wouldn't necessarily say 'no' to _sharing_ ...." he added with a grin. He'd been in a group situation back in college, and he could definitely see why Steve found Barnes attractive ....

Steve laughed.

As Sam put the car in reverse, he decided not to point out that he wasn't kidding.


	2. Steve

=* @ *=  
One of the books Steve had read since waking up had been George Orwell's _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ , about a world where everyone's every move was under surveillance every second of the day, lest they commit the crime of thinking for themselves. The book had horrified him, the very idea of such a society making his stomach churn. That was _not_ the sort of world he was trying to defend! And yet, here he was, taking advantage of the very tech that could bring the world _to_ that point.

The weeks spent searching for Bucky after Steve had gotten out of the hospital had proven fruitless, and Steve was getting increasingly desperate to find his friend.

Then one day he had been watching a news report that talked about how a criminal had recently been apprehended because there had been so many surveillance cameras in the area that had caught glimpses of the thief; police had used them and even satellite imagery to follow the guy to his hideout a few blocks away. Steve remembered Agent Hill mentioning SHIELD being able to use any camera with a wireless connection. Granted, now that SHIELD was disbanded, they wouldn't have technology quite like that at their disposal, but ....

"Could we find Bucky that way?" Steve had asked Sam without really thinking, hope momentarily overriding careful thought. Just after the words left his mouth, though, the similarities between surveillance of that magnitude and Orwell's Big Brother concept had begun to occur to him. "Never mind!" he'd quickly back-pedaled at the same moment Sam had said it was a great idea.

"What? Why never mind?" Sam had then asked. After Steve had explained his qualms, Sam had offered another perspective. "Listen, man ... would you refuse to use this method to find a missing child?"

Steve had thought about it a long moment. "No," he'd answered finally, but that answer hadn't come easily. 

"Because a kid can't readily care for or protect themselves, and every second more they stay missing means the chance if them being found alive grows smaller, right? And no one's going to say their own privacy is more important than saving a child's life," Sam had posed.

Steve had agreed, though the whole scenario still left him uncomfortable. _What was it Ben Franklin said? "Those who surrender freedom for security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one ...."_

"Well, Barnes is practically a child right now, isn't he? An amnesiac man displaced in time, brainwashed to be compliant -- and currently without any support like you had after being defrosted. But worse, he's also a _dangerous_ man, trained to kill without conscience! We _have_ to find him, before he hurts himself -- _or_ someone else!"

Steve was starting to wonder if Sam could read minds, having had similar thoughts after reading the file Natasha had given him.

"Besides," Sam went on, "the cameras are there filming whether we make use of them or not. Might as well get some good out of the bad ...."

Convinced (though just barely), Steve had gotten on the phone with Tony Stark. Steve explained to the master of technology about Bucky, relating what had happened in the past on the train and that recent day on the helicarrier, and telling when and where he (Steve) had been left on the shore. Tony asked someone named Jarvis if he'd gotten all that, and a soothing British voice that reminded Steve of Peggy (but male) confirmed that he had.

"Jarvis will find him, buddy, don't worry," Tony had promised, hanging up.

This Jarvis guy had called back just a few hours later, while Sam was out running errands. Stark apparently had ties to many businesses in the area in question (and, Steve suspected, authorised the purchase of any he didn't, or at least made the owners sizable offers for access to their security footage). Going through it all should have been an intimidating task, but apparently was a breeze with the sort of tech Stark had lying around. Jarvis had discovered that Bucky had been spending a lot of time at one of the Smithsonian buildings -- the one housing the "Captain America and the Howling Commandos" exhibit.

Relief and guilt warred in Steve's stomach as he made his way though the building that housed the exhibit. Relief because they'd found his friend, and because Bucky's choice of hang-out suggested that Steve hadn't imagined the spark of recognition in Bucky's eyes in their last moment on the helicarrier. But guilt because Steve now made himself face that it was _fear_ that had truly driven him to relent on using the cameras, more than Sam's rationalisations.

Losing Bucky once had already been too much. Steve had a recurring nightmare now where he watched Bucky fall from the train, but Bucky looked as he did in the present, with his metal arm and longer hair. It wasn't lost on Steve how his fear of losing Bucky again made Bucky dangerous, whether alone or in the hands of another enemy: Steve had already defied orders all those years ago to save the man, and recently had been willing to let Bucky kill him rather than raise his hand in defense against him, and _now_ Steve had shoved his principles aside just to _find_ him ....

It was some small solace that Jarvis didn't know where Bucky was living -- Bucky had that much privacy, at least, as did everyone outside of the reach of the cameras. But Jarvis _did_ know part of the route that brought Bucky back to the Smithsonian again and again, and Jarvis had, via Stark's own satellite surveillance, confirmed that Bucky was on his way there now.

Steve had meant to return his old uniform to the museum for weeks, and now he finally was -- or at least he would, once he was done with the current objective. It was with that promise that he got the museum's cooperation with his plan.

Standing in place of the mannequin that had once worn the uniform, he was in the perfect spot to observe Bucky without spooking the man, once Bucky finally arrived. Thankfully, it was a quiet day, so there weren't many people to fool until then. For the few visitors there were, Steve's superhuman abilities allowed him to stand perfectly still, and so the people who _really_ looked at him just remarked on what an amazing likeness he was.

At least, that was all they did until Bucky arrived.

"Why is Captain America crying, Mommy?" asked a little girl.

Bucky had come to a halt before a clear block, one Steve knew showcased a photo of Bucky. Steve could only see the man's profile in his peripheral vision, but that vision was better than most people's. Steve had felt a pang in his chest as Bucky had reached out hesitantly to touch the image, and a moment later, Steve's eyes had begun to burn. He had been powerless to keep the subsequent little drops of salt and water from tracing a wet trail down his face, betraying his existence as a living man. 

Upon hearing the child's question, Bucky looked the girl's way, then followed her gaze up to Steve. The meeting of eyes, at least for Steve, was just like that day on the bridge: a shock, like a lightning strike. Then his friend's eyes widened in alarm, the stiffening of his body telling Steve that Bucky was about to bolt.

"Wait!"

Bucky stopped mid-turn, but didn't meet Steve's eyes again.

"Bucky, please! I just wanna talk." Steve raised his hands in a placating gesture and stepped closer to the barricade.

Buck turned his head more towards Steve but still wouldn't look up. "I'm _not_ him." His voice was rough from disuse.

It took Steve a moment to find his own voice again, smothered as it was in grief. "Maybe not anymore, no. But that doesn't mean I don't care about the person you are now. It doesn't mean that I don't want to help," he added, climbing slowly over the barricade now.

"Who is that other man, Mommy?" the child asked, reminding Steve that they had an audience.

Steve addressed the girl, her mother, and the other couple handfuls of patrons. "I hate to bother all you nice folks, but if I could have a moment alone with my friend here, I'd really appreciate it." 

"Sure thing, Cap," replied an elder gentleman -- Henry, a docent. Henry, Steve had learned, had been amongst those Steve had saved the day he'd rescued Bucky and the rest of the men who later became the Howling Commandos. "Come on, folks -- it's almost closing time anyway ...." It only took half a minute or so for Henry to herd the people out. He gave Steve a salute, which Steve returned, before leaving himself.

_Consider the debt paid in full, Henry ...._

Steve walked slowly towards the stock-still Bucky. Steve had a million questions, but he hadn't a clue where to start. He contemplated it a long moment, taking in his friend's unkempt appearance. Scruffy but with clean-seeming clothes, and long unshaven; Bucky could be homeless, or just be dressed really casually. The backpack he carried could affirm that he was homeless, or suggest college student. Either way, Steve was a bit surprised he'd recognised the man at all.

"Are you okay? Have you been eating? Do you have someplace to sleep ...?"

At first, Steve didn't think Bucky would reply. Then, "I've been staying where they kept me. There's no one there anymore, but there's ... sustenance. And a place to shower. I ... I don't know if I'm okay, though. I'm not sure what that means. I'm not _sick_. You dislocated my arm, but it's healed now. And the pain from my last treatment has worn off." He shrugged.

Steve sat down on a nearby bench, imagining all sorts of horrors. "Treatment?"

Bucky looked at the bench for a long moment, then sat gingerly at the other end. "How they prepare me for my missions. I only remember the last one, really -- I don't remember much of anything otherwise. I keep trying, but ... there's just those words you said. 'Till the end of the line.' Except ... I hear _my_ voice saying them, instead of yours." He was clearly confused.

Steve tried to speak, but his voice cracked; he tried again, and barely succeeded. "That's probably because you said them to me first."

Bucky's eyes grew vague. "When _you_ said it ... I didn't get a memory, exactly -- it was more like a flip switched in my head. Suddenly my mission was to _save_ you instead of kill you, and I did. And yet ... part of me still felt like I had failed, and was going to be punished. And then I got back to headquarters, and there was nothing. No punishment, no people, no next mission." He sighed, holding up his metal hand, studying it. "There was a song I heard on the way here today. This guy kept singing that I should clap if I were 'happy', and ... I realised that I don't what that _is_. I know doing what I'm ordered to do made my _superiors_ happy, but ... I don't know how it feels to be happy _myself_. It's the opposite of angry, right? I know how _that_ feels ...."

In that moment, Steve knew all too well himself what 'angry' felt like. "Are you angry _now?_ " he asked Bucky, and his voice shook a little with his stifled fury.

Bucky's brow furrowed. "No," he decided after a long pause to consider. "But happy people ... they do this thing with their mouths ... smiling? I-I don't know how to do that. I tried, and it just didn't look right." He bared his teeth a moment, brows raised with the effort. It would have been comical if it wasn't so heartbreaking.

 _You_ do _know!_ Steve wanted to insist -- he could easily call to mind the image of his best friend smiling, and laughing too! But Steve was wary of contradicting Bucky's insistence that he was not Bucky Barnes just yet, afraid that Bucky would shut down altogether then.

"Maybe you're in the middle," Steve suggested instead. "Not happy, but also not angry."

Bucky nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "So ... what do I do now?"

"Well, what do you _want_ to do?"

"What I'm ordered to do," Bucky answered simply, with no hesitation or passion. "But there's no one to give me orders -- I've just been waiting and waiting ...."

Steve felt like he'd been punched in the gut. HYDRA had stripped away so much from Bucky, right down to the simplest impulses!

But Bucky had saved Steve, defying HYDRA's orders, and had come to this exhibit again and again; surely that meant his friend was still in there, somewhere. A thought occurred to him.

"Well ... you said my words gave you a new mission on the helicarrier. And you can see from these pictures that I was your commanding officer once. HYDRA stole you away, made you their prisoner, but we've defeated them, and now we have you back. So, I, uh, guess you'd get your orders from me."

Bucky nodded again, more forcefully, and Steve thought he could see a hint of relief in his friend's eyes. Steve was relieved too, as it meant Bucky would stick with him now without argument -- but he was also sick to see Bucky so eager to give up his autonomy. It reminded him of what Loki had said in Germany, about how people were made to be ruled and wanted freedom from having to make their own choices. The Bucky he knew would never have stood for that.

 _One step at a time, Rogers._ "Well, then. For the first order of business, let's go get some grub." He scratched an itch under his mask, and suddenly remembered he was still wearing his old uniform. "Make that the _second_ order ...."

He'd brought a change of clothes with him to the museum, and now led Bucky into the handicapped stall of a nearby bathroom. Normally, he wouldn't dream of using one, being able-bodied and all, but he didn't dare lose sight of Bucky, not quite willing to trust that an order would keep the man from wandering off if some sort of programming kicked in. Bucky watching him strip to his boxers was embarrassing at first, but with the passive look on the man's face, it was like being watched by a coat-rack, and Steve suffered a whole new variety of disappointment. That was only compounded by the disapproving look they got from a guy who'd walked into the bathroom after them, as they exited the stall together (if the man was going to assume they'd done something untoward, at least they could have had the pleasure of actually _doing_ it ...).

After thanking the guards for their cooperation and taking the uniform back to the curator (who either didn't notice or declined to remark on the new holes, faint stains, and burns in the fabric), Steve led an eerily complacent Bucky by the non-metal hand to a nearby café, trying not to get distracted by how happy the physical contact made him -- especially since it probably meant nothing at all to Bucky.

"See anything you like?" he asked Bucky once they arrived, pointing at the menu board with his free hand.

Bucky looked lost. "I don't know."

Steve felt another pang, but kept his voice upbeat. "Well, what do you normally eat?" Now that there were no HYDRA agents to feed him ....

"I found the intravenous solution the scientists fed me. There's a port in my left arm," Bucky replied with a shrug.

Steve blanched. He supposed he should be grateful that Bucky had enough volition to do that much and stay alive. He wondered for a moment if Bucky could even eat solid food, but decided that if the man's healing ability was like Steve's own, his digestive track must be fine -- the scientists probably just felt intravenous nutrition was easier to deal with.

Steve studied the chalky menu board, thinking about what Bucky used to eat when they were kids, and finally ordered roast beef sandwiches, kettle chips, and Cokes for each of them. He chose a table in the corner, gestured for Bucky to sit by the walls, and sat opposite him. Steve didn't really like having his back to the crowd, but he thought it best to act as a buffer between Bucky and the masses -- and also give Bucky as little room to bolt as possible. He laid Bucky's share of food before the guy, and dug into his own. He saw Bucky hesitantly mirror him, like the man didn't even know how to eat a sandwich, and resisted the urge to throw his own food against the wall in frustrated rage.

Seeing his friend like this, like a child experiencing things for the first time, was all too much like visiting Peggy when she was having a spell and suddenly thought he'd just come back, instead of knowing he'd been out of the ice for over two years. Worse, even, because at least she remembered him, even if she momentarily forgot those two years. But this ... it was like the Bucky Steve knew really was dead after all, and had only left an empty shell behind. 

_Don't think like that. We can fix this!_ But what if they couldn't? What if HYDRA's methods working with the brain were like a magnet against a data strip -- the information erased, with no hope of retrieval?

While Steve agonised, Bucky chewed slowly, his expression thoughtful.

"How is it?" Steve asked.

"... I can have this from now on, right? Instead of the IVs?"

Steve grinned, this little sign of life, of desire and choice, more precious to him than all the riches of the world. "Whatever you want, buddy. Nice to be able to _taste_ your food for a change, huh?"

Bucky nodded. "I ... _like_ it?" He said it like English wasn't his first language and he wasn't sure he had the right word, but Steve suspected that it was more a matter of Bucky not being sure what he was actually feeling.

Steve swallowed, and the food was like a rock in his throat. "Yeah ... yeah, they're good sandwiches. Tasty." Never mind that everything tasted like salt to him right now.

"Tasty ...." Bucky echoed, taking a bigger bite, seeming a bit more animated.

Steve wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he saw the hint of a smile in the corners of Bucky's mouth, like the sun trying to break through clouds, and prayed it wasn't just wishful thinking on his part.

"Bucky--"

The clouds blocked out the sun again, darker than before. "I'm not Bucky."

Steve sighed, trying to keep exasperation from his voice as he asked, "What should I call you, then?"

"They called me Soldier."

Steve swore under his breath. "That's not a name, that's a career path! Look ..." He realised Bucky was shrinking back a little, and pondered how to phrase things to get Bucky to keep the name and not shut down again.

Then he remembered how Bucky had come by the nickname in the first place: because on their first day of kindergarten together, there had been five other boys named James in their class, and their teacher had insisted that they all use their middle names instead. When Bucky said he hated his middle name, Steve suggested Bucky as an alternative, and thus began their lifelong friendship. Steve's mother used to affectionately tease that to name a thing was to claim it, and so they'd never be rid of Bucky ....

"I get that you're not Bucky Barnes because you don't remember _being_ Bucky Barnes, but a lot of people in this world have the same name, so you can still be _a_ Bucky without being _that_ Bucky. Okay?"

Bucky stared at his food, scowling, for a long moment, and Steve half worried that the man expected the food to advise him.

"He wouldn't want to share his name with me," Bucky said finally. "Bad enough I share his face."

"What do you mean?"

"There are files about me at the base. I don't remember doing any of the things in them, but if I really did do them ... I've read all about your friend. He would hate me." The way Bucky looked at Steve said he thought Steve should too.

Was Bucky compartmentalising things? Denying who he was because what he'd been forced to do was too horrible to face, and this way it was someone else who committed the actions? As bad as it sounded, at least it would mean Bucky was still in there somewhere!

Steve really wished Sam was there at that moment, in all his psycho-babbling glory. The man was probably home by then, but Steve decided there was another stop they had to make before they could go there themselves.

"I think I know James Barnes a little better than you do," Steve pointed out wryly, the irony of that fact far more painful than humourous. "But I also think I need to get to know _you_ better. Can you show me the files?" Most of them were probably material like that which was covered in the file Natasha had already given him, but there might be some clue on how to reverse the brainwashing!

Bucky looked distressed by the request. "I can if you order me to," he replied reluctantly, like that was the last thing he wanted Steve to do. Was that because he was afraid Steve would be repulsed by the reports of what the Winter Soldier had done? (It was weird to hope that such was actually the case, but Steve did.)

"Then that's an order. Take me to the files." Steve wasn't about to let Bucky just go and bring the files back, and risk the man not actually returning. Besides, there might be other things to learn at the HYDRA base, things not _in_ the files ....

Taking Steve's hand, Bucky led him to an abandoned bank not far at all from the Triskelion building, SHIELD's now-demolished headquarters. Biting back tears again as Bucky took him through a hidden entrance in the alley, Steve couldn't help but wonder how long Bucky had been living so close by to where Steve had worked, how much sooner they could have been reunited. Steve had even eaten at the Thai place next door!

The stench inside the bank turned Steve's stomach. There were several corpses lying about: dozens of scientists, a few suits, and a three or four guards.

"What happened here?" he asked.

Bucky shrugged. "It was like this when I got back from the helecarrier."

 _And he hasn't been programmed to deal with 'clean-up',_ Steve realised. HYDRA probably sent crews in after his missions for that, hence Bucky having left decaying corpses just lying about. It probably hadn't even occurred to him to get rid of them, or find another place to live. _The guards must have had orders to destroy the place if things went south, and the scientists must have disagreed on whether that was really necessary. They wiped each other out. Lucky for Bucky, or the guards might have considered him evidence to be destroyed once he got back, or else the scientists would have put him back on ice!_ And then Steve probably would never have seen him again ....

He shoved the thought aside; it didn't happen that way, so there was no point in contemplating it. Instead, he focused on the room, trying to pick up clues about what life there had been like for Bucky.

Looking about, the moment Steve spotted the chair in the vault, he just knew that the HYDRA scientists had done unspeakable things to Bucky with it. It was like it radiated evil, and he could swear he heard the faint echoes of screams. He wanted nothing more than to smash it to bits, but didn't dare do so, in case there was a chance to use the chair to reverse whatever had been done to his friend. Maybe it worked like that chair on that _Dollhouse_ show, and you could download the old personality before uploading new ones, and they just had to find the original ....

Bucky led Steve into an office. A computer was on, a HYDRA logo on the screen. Resting his backpack on the desk, Bucky bumped the mouse, waking the machine up, and the logo was replaced by a wall of text.

"You know how to use a computer?" Steve asked, surprised. Then again, Natasha was a killer _and_ a computer genius -- maybe HYDRA had felt there might come a time where Bucky would need to hack something, or even operate their own equipment?

Steve scanned the screen, already seeing a few new things in the HYDRA file that made him want to punch the monitor. Steve was no fan of killing, but he had a hard time working up any sympathy for the corpses in the other room. He searched the desk, its surface and drawers, and found a flash drive, plugging it in to a port. Going to the top of the programme window, he found the menu and made to save the file to the drive.

Bucky stopped him. At first, Steve thought it was a matter of Bucky wanting to keep Steve from knowing the awful history of the Winter Soldier, but Bucky explained, "That's just the first file. There's a folder ...." And Bucky navigated through the browser to it, transferring it to the drive.

"If there's anything about that chair that's in the vault, specs or something, get that, too," Steve suggested.

Bucky nodded, looking miserable, like a bedraggled and abused puppy. All the same, once done, he removed the drive and handed it to Steve without protest. Steve attached it to his key-ring, thinking he'd never have a more important key than this one: the key to his friend's life.

"Okay, now, delete your file from the computer," Steve ordered. Just in case someone else stumbled across the place before he and his friends learned how they might use it to help Bucky (if not for that, Steve would have been happy to just torch the place rather than risk it falling into corrupt hands).

"Before we go, I wanna grab one of those IV bags you mentioned -- I want some friends of mine to check it out," Steve said when Bucky finished. Anything that might give them a clue to Bucky's current condition!

Wordlessy, Bucky shouldered his pack, then led Steve to the vault and handed an IV bag over. Steve gently laid it in his own backpack, then shouldered that.

"All right, then -- let's jet," Steve said, grabbing the man's hand and immediately heading for the door, wanting desperately to get away from the Vault of Horrors.

"Go where?" Bucky asked.

"Home!"

Bucky stopped and looked around. "But I'm already here?" he replied in confusion, pointing to the chair.

There was no fighting the tears now. "Oh, Bucky, no, _no_!"

He didn't -- _couldn't_ \-- stop himself from reaching out and cupping Bucky's cheek, drawing the man's attention back. Miraculously, Bucky didn't pull away -- he even leaned into it some, hesitantly raising his good hand and laying it over Steve's, as if to tell Steve to keep it there.

"This isn't home, buddy," Steve went on, trying not to lose himself in the intimacy of the moment. (The stench helped.) "This was nothing but a cell! But you're _free_ now."

"Free ..." Bucky whispered, staring at the chair again. Then suddenly, he looked murderous, thoughtlessly dropping his backpack and heading for the chair like a bullet. Once he reached it, he began pulverising it.

"Bucky, no!" Steve hurried after him and threw his arms around the man from behind, struggling to restrain someone who, unlike most, was his equal in strength. "Bucky, stop! _That's an order!_ "

Bucky immediately froze, then slowly lowered his fists, breath shuddering. Steve began to relax his grip, but Bucky's good hand flew up to catch one of Steve's in a grip just as iron as the metal one's.

"Don't!" Bucky cried, terror in his voice. "Please," he whispered. "Please don't let go. Don't let me fall again. Don't let me become ... _him_ again!"

Steve felt like he'd crashed into the arctic ice once more. With the crystal clarity of a recurring nightmare, he saw Bucky fall from the train, saw the terror in his friend's eyes. He closed his own eyes tight against the vision and focused on the feel of Bucky in his arms, feverish but shivering, heart pounding beneath Steve's hands. Alive and present.

As Bucky began to sob, knees buckling, Steve fell to the floor with him, still gripping him tight, his own tears a steady, hot stream down his face. They should have been tears of joy that Bucky had survived and returned, but they felt the same as grief.

"I won't, buddy. Never again. I'll never let you go," he promised over and over as he rocked Bucky gently.

Bucky's sobs ebbed, and he grew lax in Steve's arms, lolling forward. Steve eased him around, cradling him, noting sadly how even in sleep, Bucky looked like he was in pain. Steve brushed a thick, damp strand of hair away from the man's brow and kissed Bucky's forehead, the most he would dare do -- maybe ever. Then he pressed his head against Bucky's, wishing the gesture would allow him to enter Bucky's mind and find his friend.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Steve fumbled his cell out of his pocket, turned it on, and, ignoring the pop-up telling him he'd missed calls and messages, dialed Sam.

" _Did you find him?_ " Sam asked in lieu of a hello. Steve had left Sam a note on the table explaining that Jarvis had found Bucky and Steve was going after him -- nothing more.

"Yes! Sorry about turning my phone off --"

" _No, I get it -- a phone ringing might have scared him off. How is he?_ "

"About what you'd expect," Steve replied lowly, so as not to wake Bucky. "Physically, he's fine -- even the arm I dislocated is back in place and healed up." Steve realised that had to have been part of the programming for Bucky to have repaired a dislocation, and was grudgingly grateful to whatever scientist had thought to add that kind of first aid. "His head's a mess, of course."

" _Has he agreed to come back with you?_ "

"Yeah, he, ah ... he said he needs orders, so we've agreed that I'm his commanding officer now. Is it weird that I'm hoping he'll defy orders soon?"

Sam chuckled. " _It is and it isn't. I know you want him to get his sense of identity back, and not be just a robot to be programmed, but it's my understanding that he followed you to Hell and back when he was fully aware of himself, so he may_ never _defy you._ "

Steve smiled fondly down at the sleeping man, remembering past missions; Sam was right. "I'll settle for some complaining, then."

He told Sam where to find them, then carefully carried Bucky (and Bucky's pack) out into the alley. Even full of trash and piss, it smelled better than inside the bank. It only took Sam ten minutes to get there, pulling his old Thunderbird into the alley. Steve wondered if Sam broke any speed limits on the way, then decided he was grateful if Sam did, eager to get home, feeling every moment like someone might snatch Bucky away from him, until they had him safe in their own territory. Steve almost asked Sam to floor it on the way back. It was a stupid sentiment, though, considering what HYDRA had done to his own apartment, and could do to Sam's house ....

Once at Sam's place, Steve carried the deeply asleep super-soldier, limp as an exhausted toddler, into his room, stripping Bucky of hat, coat, and shoes and tucking him into bed. Steve then decided he was pretty tired himself and curled up beside his best friend, taking Bucky's non-metal hand in his. Steve felt a little funny about sharing his bed with Bucky, given his feelings. Originally, he'd intended to camp out on the couch, but Sam had pointed out that the guest bed, a king, was plenty big enough for two, and it might be prudent in the coming weeks to have someone there in case Bucky woke in the middle of the night in a homicidal frenzy.

Gazing at Bucky like this, in the quiet, it finally began to sink in for Steve that he had a piece of his life back, one that he'd thought long gone. The tears were ones of joy now as he cried himself to sleep, believing for the first time since that day on the train, when Bucky fell, that everything would be okay.

After all, if two men could come back from the dead, what could possibly be impossible?

~FIN~

**Author's Note:**

> Due to explicit content, I have made the next 2 installments in this series, "Waking Up" and "Coming Out", available only to registered AO3 members, sorry. The fourth installment, "Saying Goodbye", is open to the public, and I think fairly enjoyable even without having read those two, though. :)
> 
> ###########  
> If you've enjoyed my writing, I invite you to explore my original fantasy storyverse, [Gaiankind](http://gaiankind.com)! You can even find Gaiankind stories for free [here](http://archiveofourown.org/tags/Gaiankind) on AO3!


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